Thoughts
by shortie990
Summary: Takes place after Butterflied. First part is from Grissom's POV. 2nd part is from Sara's POV.
1. Grissom

Do not own CSI or any of the characters.

Okay, when I can't sleep I write. So naturally after watching the episode Butterflied, I was struck by a story idea and couldn't go to sleep until I wrote it down. Grissom's POV.

_**Thoughts**_

_It was well past midnight as he walked into the house, carefully closing the door behind him. The house was dark and damp . There was an eerie silence creeping along the walls that he did not like; something was wrong. Sensing this, he made his way further into the house; stepping out of the foyer and into the living room. _

_His blue eyes scanned around the room; looking for anything out of place. The curtains were open, looking out onto the darken street. The moon was full and high in the sky that night; casting light into the darken living room. Books and magazines were scattered along the surface of the coffee table, along with a half empty mug of tea left over from the morning. Standing in the doorway of the room for a moment longer, he couldn't help but wonder where she was? She should have been home? Turning on his heel, he made his way back into the hallway. Traveling further into the house. _

_As he rounded the corner, he noted the bedroom door was open at the end of the hallway. Walking slowly towards it, he appeared down at the carpet. There were boot prints embed on it; these prints did not belong to him. Tracing his hand along the wall, he reached out with the other and grasped the doorknob of the door; pushing it further open._

_The bedroom like the rest of the house was dark and damp. The only light source coming from the open bathroom door that was attached to the room. The light in the bathroom had been left on it seemed. Praying she was in there, he moved with caution across the room towards it. Stepping into the bathroom, the smell of copper and bleach immediately filled his nostrils as his eyes fell onto the shower. There she lay on her knees, staring up at him with lifeless eyes. He was too late. _

Grissom shot up in bed, the covers twisted around his bare legs like ropes. His heart was beating a mile a minute as his eyes looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. He was at home, in bed, alone. It had all been a nightmare. The same nightmare he had been having since the Debbie Marlin case, two weeks ago. Except it wasn't Debbie that he kept on seeing but Sara. The nightmare always started and ended the same each time, with him arriving at her apartment, walking through it looking for her but always ending up being too late as he stared at her limp body, her lifeless eyes.

He was drenched in sweat as he kicked off the covers and got out of bed. He was wide awake now. Moving across the room, he slowly opened the curtains which had been drawn to block out the bright afternoon sun. He raised a hand upwards, to shield the harsh light away from his eyes before walking out of the room and into the hallway; crossing it, he stepped into the bathroom. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror for a second before turning away and facing the shower stall. He was not one for bathes. Turning it on, Grissom began to strip off his soaked through clothing. The small bathroom filled with steam as he opened the shower door and stepped underneath the faucet. The water was scalping hot, just like he liked it to be. Closing his eyes, his thoughts drifted towards what he had spoken to Vincent Lurie about in the holding room. It seemed no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't. This case forever it seemed would haunt him; the details of it where to similar to his own personal life...it scared him.

Vincent Lurie was an award winning surgeon at Desert Palm Hospital. He was a middle age man like Grissom, whose career had become who he was and had neglected everything else in life; meeting someone, marriage, having a family. Their careers had become their personal lives until it seemed it was too late to have a normal one. Until out of nowhere this ravishing younger creature appears before them and they fall in love. They cannot help themselves, they are smitten. It has been so long since they could remember feeling like this...alive. This young beautiful creature loves them back. She shows them the world, opening their eyes to new things. Making them realise they haven't really lived at all until they met them. However, Grissom had run away from these feelings. He had chose to ignore them, stuff them in a bottle and keep them locked up inside. He was afraid to take that step, to completely open himself up to another person, offering them his heart, leaving him completely vulnerable. He had been afraid of what would become of him, of what would become of his career he had worked so hard at. So instead he had turned her down when she had offered him her heart; ignoring the protests of his own heart as he watched her walk away. However, Vincent Lurie had done the opposite. He had not withered away from this chance at love. He had jumped at it with open arms; giving his heart to the young woman that took an interest in it but instead of giving hers in return. She had stomped on it, telling him that she loved someone else, someone younger. The doctor had not taken the rejection lightly like any man of his age would. He could have turned to drinking to numb the pain and hurt. He could have sought comfort in prostitutes. But nothing would ever fill that void in his heart that she had created. That emptiness and embarrassment that lingered there. He should had known better but she had shown him the light, only to take turn him into darkness once again. His feelings of loneliness had quickly turned to anger. He wanted revenge. Not only from her but from the younger man who he believed had stolen her from him. Both were to blame for this misery he felt. So he had killed them. It had not been an easy thing to do, to take his loves life like that. But he had felt that she had taken his life first when he had told him, no. If he couldn't have her, then no one could.

Not only where he and the killer similar in this case but also the young woman involved. When he had first appeared at the face of Debbie Marlin, her blank hazel eyes looking at him; his heart had skipped a beat and the world had come to a standstill. He had thought he was looking at Sara. Every time he looked at Debbie Marlin's body, he was reminded of Sara. They could be twins they looked so much alike. When he had seen her standing outside the home with the rest of the guys after he had walked through it, a sigh of relief came over him. His Sara was still alive. He knew she would be pissed at him when he assigned her to the victim's car, not allowing her to enter the house. He didn't want her to have to stare down at her own lifeless self, like he had. He had stayed in Debbie's house for over a period of three shifts, going over every trace and inch of that place. He had become obsessed with this victim and her home. Because in reality he knew that this would be the closest he ever got to Sara. He knows that sounds absurd and it was.

But no matter how many times he tried to leave, he couldn't; he had to go over one last time the contents in the fridge or see the footsteps embedded in the white fibres of the carpet that lined the hallway. However in reality, he just didn't want to have to face the outside world. Here it was only him and his thoughts. He could be a hermit. The last room he had left was the bedroom. He had been afraid to step in there and discover the presents of Sara. It was here he could let his thoughts about Sara run wild. As he studied the numerous framed photos of the victim that lined the painted white vanity, he couldn't help but image that it was Sara. Her broad gap- tooth grin staring out into the camera, her eyes piercing into him. He imaged the victim sitting on her bed, appearing over her shoulder as she studied herself in the mirror. It quickly faded to Sara, lying on her back a book in her hands, reading. Looking through the content of the dresser draws, he had come across the victim's intimates. A deep blush had appeared on his face as his thoughts once again drifted towards Sara and if she had a draw like this one filled with silky panties and bras. After he had turned her down for dinner, he could not stop himself from dreaming about her and wondering what if... He had tried to avoid these thoughts, burring himself deeper into work but however this case had made him not be able to escape. Everywhere he turned he was reminded of Sara.

Stepping out of the now lukewarm shower, Grissom wrapped a towel around his waist and appeared at his appearance in the steamed mirror. His dark salted pepper curls were plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck. There were dark circles under his dull blue eyes. Who was this old man? He asked himself as he let out a sigh and rubbed the side of his face with his hand before walking out of the room. Entering his bedroom, he changed into his usual work attire of kakis and a button down shirt. It was just now passed five o'clock in the afternoon, he was due into work for another four hours or so but he knew that he wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep now. Walking into the kitchen, he poured himself a much needed cup of coffee and started to look through the contents of his fridge, trying to find something that could pass for dinner. He had not gone grocery shopping in a while and his fridge was looking a little empty. Settling for a yogurt and a slightly bruised apple, Grissom closed the door and stood and ate his dinner at his kitchen island. His thoughts once again drifting towards Sara as he looked out the window from across the room, he wondered if she was looking out as the sunset over the Las Vegas streets.

Thanks for reading and please review telling me if you liked it or not.

Next part will be out soon, this time in Sara's POV.

Julie


	2. Sara

Do not own CSI or any of the characters.

Okay, so here is Sara's POV.

_**Thoughts**_

_"Since when have you been interested in beauty?"She asked in a soft voice, her eyes narrowing at him with curiosity. _

_"Since I met you," he answered back, his blue eyes locking with hers for a second before looking away and out onto the ice rink. _

She didn't know why she was thinking about that moment that had happened two years ago between them. Or what had brought it up for her to ponder his words that he had spoken so carelessly to her but had meant the world to her. He had called her a beauty. He had called her beautiful. Something she had never heard him say before in the years she had known him. Sara was lying on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep which wasn't a surprise; she could never sleep. And if she did, it was only for a few hours. Her hands rested on her stomach as her thoughts drifted away from that day two years ago to more recent events that had been fogging her brain recently.

It had been two weeks since she had stood in the closed off area of the interrogation room, watching and listening through the glass as Grissom had confessed his feelings for her to the suspect, Vincent Lurie. She didn't understand how he could speak so openly like that to a stranger but couldn't be honest with her? When she had asked him to join her for dinner a couple weeks before, after a case and he had turned her down, she had stormed out of the lab in outrage. Why couldn't he love her? Grissom was a hermit and loner in nature but she knew that he went on dates; rarely but he did. There had been that Terri Millar, the forensic artist and then Lady Heather. Both relationships had not lasted that long but it didn't mean that Grissom could not love. But why couldn't he love her?

No matter how hard Sara tried, she could not get his words out of her head; he had confessed to Vincent Lurie that his career was his life and didn't have the guts to pursue a relationship with her. He hadn't spoken her name but he didn't have to. She already knew who he was talking about. She didn't know what to make of this; that she wasn't important enough to be a part of his live in a personal manner? That he was a coward of love? She didn't know if it was her fault or his? Grissom never filled in the blanks; he was always leaving little things out for her to solve. But that is one of the things that she loved about him. He wasn't an open book but more like a jigsaw puzzle that you had to solve piece by piece until you had a beautiful, complete picture before you. Even know she and Grissom had been friends for years; the puzzle was barely half complete. This man that she deeply loved was still a great mystery to her.

Turning onto her side, she sighed and looked out towards the window. She would have to be at work soon. She hoped that tonight would be the night that he came clean with her. She had thought that when he had turned her down that she had misread his feelings for her, leaving her embarrassed. But now that she knew that that wasn't true; that he did think of her more than just a friend. Just not enough to act on them. At the next shift, she had wanted to speak with Grissom, telling him that she had heard what he had said. Then if maybe he knew how she was feeling and understood where he was coming from, he would be more open to pursuing their friendship to the next level. However at the end, she had chickened out. She was afraid that it would back fire and he would completely push her out of his life. So instead she had turned to drinking, to fill the emptiness in her heart. To wash away her thoughts of him. To numb the pain and loneliness.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she hugged the pillow against her torso. Wondering yet again, why this man could not love her back?

What was wrong with her? She thought to herself. When had she become that girl who lay in bed and pinned for the man she could not have. When had she become this pathetic creature? Rising to her feet, she made her way into the bathroom, where she stood and studied her reflection. Sara had never been one for love. She had dated in high school and all through college but she had never really been in a serious relationship filled with compassion and trust. Her's had always been more about sex and just needing someone. Her relationships had never been about real love. For a moment, she had thought that that is what she had with Hank but that didn't turn out to be the case. Hank had been seeing someone else while they were together; he had just been using her like her boyfriend during her freshmen year of college, Jeremy had.

Sara appeared at her face for a while as her thoughts drifted towards the case of Debbie Marlin. She had been pissed off at him for not allowing her to step in the house but making her process the victim's car instead. Every time she had phoned him up, offering her help he had turned her down. She had not understood why he was avoiding her. She had figured it had something to do with the awkwardness that had developed between them over the weeks following her asking him out. She just guessed that he didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. However she did not fully understand his actions until she had finally laid eyes on the victim. Nick and Warrick had mentioned that they looked alike but Sara did not know how much until she saw her own face reflecting back up at her on the table. It had sent a shiver down her spine. It was like predicting her own death. After she had finished printing the victim's toes, she was more than determined than ever to find Grissom. When Sara had run into Catherine in the locker room, she had not wanted to discuss what she had seen. She had lied to her coworker, saying that she hadn't looked at the face. Sara had already been getting glances from everyone in the lab; she didn't need Catherine's pity either. She just wanted to talk to Grissom. Sara was going to wait in Grissom's office but she couldn't help but sneak a peek at the killer and to see Grissom interrogate the bastard.

Looking away from the mirror, Sara leaned down and turned on the faucet before splashing cold water onto her face. Reaching for a wash cloth, she dried her face before walking back into her bedroom. Stripping out of her old sweatpants and t-shirt, just down to her panties; Sara threw the discarded clothes into her hamper before turning towards her closet. Pulling out an old pair of jeans and a black turtleneck, she began to get dressed for work. She knew she didn't start for a couple more hours but she couldn't stand being in her apartment, alone any longer. And maybe Grissom would be there earlier too, she thought to herself, a small smile appearing on her face. Sara sat on the edge of her bed as she pulled on her socks; shifting her gaze out towards the open window, where the sun was just setting into darkness.

Okay, I hoped you liked my take on both of Grissom's and Sara's POV. Thanks for reading and please review!

Julie


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